Getting Somewhere

23.32 Just about to turn off the computer and end the day. I need to wind down double fast – to get 8 hours sleep I need to be asleep an hour ago…

7.45am stagger out of bed, harass children into getting washed dressed etc

8.45am in junior school doing reading session with daughters class

9.15 on the road, to the studio, pick up milk and tea bags

9.45 frantic scouring out mouldy mugs and cleaning disgusting stinky shared kitchen at studio because I have a guest coming

10.30 reporter from Huddersfield Examiner arrives. Talk about my New York trip, APT, my family – forget to offer tea.

10.50 feeling a bit despondent – reflecting on interview and wishing she hadn’t got me to talk so much about partners job and our children. It doesn’t feel right for some reason

11 – 12 can’t get focused – do a few emails and phone calls

12 – 3.55 eat biscuits and do big diagrams, notes, lists and charts about how I will approach my session at ‘Stock Exchange’ (a sort of crit/sharing session with other artists). Get a call from reporter about organizing photo – say I’ll ring her after school run – my diary is at home

3.57 realise the time, panic, throw everything in my bag, jump into car to get daughter from school club

4.30 get home, trip over all the shoes in the hall and find a note from a delivery company – parcel next door

4.32 – 4.50 carry 4 heavy boxes from next door. Neighbour brings one for me – apologise about trainers in hall and breakfast dishes all over kitchen (wince). Gossip with neighbours long enough to be polite

4.50 -5.05 cheese on toast for kids, open one of the boxes – hurrah – artists books are here and are ace

5.10 shout at kids to hurry up, chuck all horsey kit in car and dash out again, arrive at pony field (older daughter’s loan pony), attach head torch and discover water carrier has emptied most of water into my boot. Wring out some stuff in boot, shout at older daughter to get hay quicker, throw hay into horse field, back in car drive for 20 minutes, jaw clenched

5.35 arrive at riding school for younger daughter’s 5.30 lesson. Find pony, drag it into arena, apologise for lateness. Watch riding for 55mins. Keeping having minor anxiety attacks about people reading the newspaper article, reading my blog and discovering what I actually do in the name of art.

6.30 – 6.45untack pony, back in car, drive home for 20 minutes. Two messages from reporter – oops. One message from inlaws about Christmas present requests from kids. I pass the message on.

7.10pm discover freezer door was left open, everything frozen solid. Scrape out big chunks of ice. Mop up big puddle. Find something to bung in oven

8pm eat my beige oven dinner and field a range of questions from daughters about their social lives

8.30 – 8.45 clean kitchen and type this. Still got to put kids to bed, deal with some emails and see if I’ve got anything clean to wear for my 7.30 start tomorrow – creative agent school meeting. Knackered.

Next stop ‘Stock Exchange’ – New Work Yorkshire’s new initiative to bring together artists for critical discussion. I sent an image and proposal as my ‘stock’ to invest in the discussions.

Now I’m reassessing the relevance of my proposal and thinking about how to use my 15 minutes presentation time. everything changes all the time, ideas, reasons, directions, confidence, motivation, purpose.

Hope a couple of days in the studio next week will help me work some of this out. problem solving by creative action, not overthinking.

my neighbour really shouted at me yesterday over a fence dispute and I said sorry a lot even though it wasn’t my fault. Not good for self esteem, but good for not getting thumped.

now I am going to sneak out of my house and take refuge in my studio. so – there’s the silver lining – studio time. computer based jobs are taking over my life and numbing me so this is a good thing.

OK – hood-up and run for it, take cover behind the wall, into the car and don’t look back.

I feel like a bit of a con-artist at the moment. I’m presenting the world with a convincing impression of an artist, when in reality I haven’t really engaged with my practice for weeks. I feel really disengaged from it in fact. I am busy from dawn til dusk, (and often for an additional hour from 3am – 4am thinking, planning organising).

I don’t play chess, but my life feels the way that chess looks to an ignorant bystander. Lots of different elements shifting up down and across according to their own rules, with no clear route through to success, but compelled to play out their drama.

All the usual stuff going on – home, kids, money, agent work for Creative Partnerships, thinking about my art and suspecting it’s mostly rubbish. I feel uniquely persecuted in my struggle against the chaos of home life, even though I know it’s far from unique. You know the story and I don’t want to talk about it any more, I’m boring myself.